


You're So Last Summer

by loochskywalker



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bad Tattoo Ideas, Break Up, M/M, Past Infidelity, Summer Romance, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 15:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loochskywalker/pseuds/loochskywalker
Summary: He was going to forget this summer at all costs. Because nothing happened. There was no reason to remember it. He had done nothing with no one.





	You're So Last Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed because I am impatient and just felt a strong need to write angst today. but if ambiguity is not your thing this may be hard to follow. if you want to set the tone though, i wrote this while listening to You're So Last Summer by Taking Back Sunday on repeat, if you couldn't tell by the title. I also want to remind you before you go into this that it's strictly from one character's point of view and you don't get the others side of it at all. and you always want to wary of narrators that do that. Can they be trusted? who knows.
> 
> Also if the grammar is terrible or there's 20 typos i'm sorry in advance. But hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway!

Whenever school starts back up again in the fall teachers always seem to be really curious about one thing, what you did over summer break. Mitch was always asked that question as he went up through school. In elementary school kids gave answers like, went to disneyland or went camping. In middle school it was more along the lines of moving older siblings into university and getting a new dog. Then in high school the answers were, started working, learned to drive, et cetera.  

He’s in university now and they don’t ask those questions. But he still thinks about it, about what he’d say.

 

I fell in love

_With who? Auston?_

Yeah.

_What is Auston like?_

Terrible. Selfish. Forgetful. Careless.

_And you fell in love with him?_

Yes.

_Why?_

He was amazing.

 

There were simple answers. He worked at the local 7/11 in his small town all summer, sweating to death with nothing but a little fan that whirred away on the counter to keep him cool. It was boring and it paid minimum wage but he needed to do something, there was never anything to do in his little town over the summer.

For him at least.

 

_Were you and Auston friends before you fell in love?_

No, we didn’t get along.

_What were his friends like?_

They were like him. Except in high school they picked on me.

_But Auston didn’t pick on you in school?_

No, he was new, I never went to school with him. I just met him this summer.

_How did you meet?_

He moved in next door.

_How did he meet his friends?_

I guess he spent most of his nights partying down by the river with them.

_But not with you?_

I was never invited.

 

There were more boring answers to, more mundane things. He broke his window, for instance, trying to wedge it open.

He needed to use it to sneak out because his front door slammed no matter how gentle you were with it. In his creaky house you had to be quiet.

But his window wasn’t the biggest. to get it open enough to fit his shoulders he had to level his hand beneath it and thrust the ball of his palm upwards against it until it lodged itself just open enough for him to slip through.

When got back into bed that night he saw the paint chippings on his pillow and brushed them off before slipping into bed. His sore body humming as he pulled the blankets up around him.

 

_What made you fall in love with him?_

He used to think 1am was early.

_And that was enough?_

Yeah. We’d sneak out together and spend the night in the bed of his truck together. He said 1am was bedtime.

_But it wasn’t for you?_

No I always went to bed around 11pm.

_Would you just sleep in his truck bed?_

No, we did other things too.

 

He also saw a meteor shower this summer, people love hearing about those. That’s probably part of what he’d say. He sat in the bed of a truck and stared up at the billions of stars, watching some of them get chased through the sky.

There’s always so much more you can see at night in the country versus the city. He can tell the difference when he’s at school, walking back to his dorm when it’s dark out and staring up. It’s beautiful but sometimes it’s terrifying. It’s vast. It’s so big. He feels like the darkness is going to swallow him whole and all that’s left will be a tiny pin prick of light that will shoot across the sky.

Meteor showers have a soundtrack to, something else missing in the city. Some people misidentify it as crickets, and sure there are some. But it’s mostly peeper frogs. They’re a lot louder than the crickets, and a more overwhelming chorus. It leaves your ears ringing when you pull away, putting distance between you and them.

 

_What else did you do in the truck?_

Besides the obvious? We watched a meteor shower.

_Oh, was it beautiful?_

Auston thought so, it was the first one he’s ever seen.

_But not you?_

No you see so much in the sky when you live out in the country. Auston’s from the city.

_Were you alone?_

Yeah it was 1am.

_So no one else was up?_

Not in the fields with us. It was peaceful.

_Do you like being alone?_

Not really, but with Auston it could be nice.

 

Mitch also went on countless walks along abandoned train tracks because they were easy to follow and you wouldn’t get lost. There were pebbles between each laid track, but flowers were growing there now too and Mitch would see little squirrels and even some rabbits scurry across them. They were a meeting place he guessed. But still pretty lonely.

It was always so quiet out by the train tracks in the middle of the day. You’d only be able to catch the sound of an 18 wheeler on the distant road every now and then. Mostly it was just the sound of his shoes crunching the rocks beneath him or a bird flying from branch to branch, rustling the leaves with its wings.

The tracks stop abruptly at the river. There used to be a bridge there but it was taken down, leaving a steep, man-made, stone cliff with just a chain in front of it to warn you not to step any further. From a distance you can’t even tell there’s a gap in the tracks, the angle just right for one end to look like it passes into the other. But then you see the chain and the rusted warning sign and you know to stop. Or to keep going. Depends.

 

Auston used to do this thing that would really piss me off.

_What was that?_

He’d jump off the edge of the tracks, where the bridge used to be.

_Why would he do that?_

He thought it was funny the way I’d freak out.

_And he was fine?_

Yeah I guess the river was deep enough right there but he’d get bruises sometimes.

 _When did he first do this_?

A few weeks into meeting me, he barely warned me just peered over the side and took his shirt off before jumping in. I was so mad.

_Did you yell at him?_

Yes, all the way back home.

_What did he say?_

He just laughed at me and told me to calm down.

 

Basically, if you could do it in his hometown, Mitch did it this summer. There just wasn’t much to do in the first place. Like he helped a family across the street from him install a tire swing in their front yard, hanging it from a huge, sturdy willow. The tree looked ancient but the owners said it was only about 25 years old. Only a few years older than Mitch was himself.

Knowing that felt weird to him. How could something that got so big and be so far reaching, only be a few years older than him. He supposed trees varied between one another, just like humans did.

Every living thing was built to do something different. Some people were built for speed, to run away when things were too dangerous. Some people were built to pierce, lashing out when they felt threatened. And some things, like that willow, were built to hold you up.

 

_So where did things go wrong for you two?_

I don’t know. He was mean.

_How was he mean?_

He’d hurt me.

_Would he hit you?_

No. Auston wouldn’t do that.

_So he’d say mean things to you?_

I guess so. We got in a lot of fights.

_About what?_

I don’t even know. Mostly about me I guess

_What about you?_

When I get scared I shut down. He didn’t like that.

_So he’d yell at you?_

Yeah when he got scared he got loud.

 

There was this town about two hours away that Mitch went too. It was a little tourist trap in the middle of nowhere that was famous for having a town fair or something. He didn’t see what was so special about it but it was the only thing to do in the dead of August. So Mitch would jump in the truck and head down to this little town to spend the day.

Or so he told his parents.

He overstayed his welcome there but there was something about getting out of that bubble, something so oppressive about little towns in the summer. It was like you were stuck there, in the heat of it all.

But down by this little town the air felt lighter and he didn’t know a single person. He got addicted to feeling that freedom, addicted to knowing he could leave whenever he wanted.

Plus there was much more to do there. You could walk around the fair, eat all different types of fried food, see pens of animals and stalls of fruits and vegetables. But you could also walk around the town, into a big toy store with a toy train that chugged around a track nailed to the ceiling. Or you could go to the wax museum.

It was a shitty wax museum but the rooms were cool and dark. He must have gone three times over the two days he spent there.

 

He also would get me in trouble with my parents a lot. They didn’t like him.

_Yeah? What did he do?_

You know that town with the summer fair and the wax museum?

_Yeah, I used to go there as a teenager._

We went there together in his stupid truck. It was only supposed to be a few hours, but we stayed the weekend.

 _Oh wow_.

Yeah we came back sunday night and my parents didn’t let me leave the house for the rest of the week besides to go to work.

_How did you see Auston then?_

I skipped work.

 

Mitch could also probably say he got fired for the first time this summer. But people only bring up the good stuff when they answer that question. You’re in front of your peers, you’re talking about your life, you want them to think you did something good. And this was all before social media took over their lives, and they still felt the need to only show off the good things about them. He knew, for instance, Brownie’s bike got hit by a car, but when he was asked what he did that summer in 5th grade, he just said he learned how to ride one.

So you lie. You don’t talk about the time you got fired. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

He was the most consistent worker that 7/11 had, he thinks that’s why it took them as many days as it did to fire him. But eventually his boss stopped him before he could walk into the store and sorrowfully told him that they had to let him go.

Mitch understood, he didn’t take it personally. Just nodded and turned on his heel, grabbed his bike and went back home. He didn’t tell his parents for a few days because he felt ashamed. He already got in trouble with them enough this summer he didn’t need another reason to piss them off. But eventually he had to.

His dad was sitting in the dining room looking over a pile of papers when Mitch walked in. The rest of the house was sleeping and the peeper frogs were just outside the window, covering up the sounds of his steps. And there was one, weak, orange light in the corner that made the rest of the room look empty, unwelcoming. But that one area, with the light warming it up seemed nice, safe, and it surrounded his dad.

He told his dad he got fired then. And maybe he could tell how disappointed Mitch was. Maybe he remembered the first time he got fired. But either way he didn’t say anything, just nodded and gave Mitch a pat on the back.

He must have told Mitch’s mom too, because Mitch never did and she didn’t ask when his next shift was ever again.

 

_Being fired always sucks, but I’m guessing it wasn’t a great job._

It definitely wasn’t a career. That’s what Auston told me.

_To convince you to skip?_

Yeah, he said he was more fun anyway.

_And you listened to him?_

He wasn’t wrong.

_A boy is probably always going to be more fun than a job._

I guess so. But I learned my lesson.

_About skipping work?_

No, about boys.

 

Canada day celebrations are another huge thing Mitch heard about growing up. Where people went for Canada day, what kind of fireworks they saw, all of that. In high school a group of kids went to Toronto for Canada Day, made a huge trip out of it. Mitch remembers because he hated those guys and knowing they got to go while he was stuck at home made him feel like an ugly storm was brewing in his chest. Like he couldn’t tell if he wanted to fight them or cry. It was just so unfair.

Mitch didn’t have friends like that, who could just run away with him for a weekend. No, instead on Canada day he did what he always did, a cookout with family and neighbors. The family across the street came and everything. But their kids were far too young to hang out with Mitch. He had no one. So instead, he just ate food that tasted like smoke, drank the one beer he was allowed, and watched fireworks from the town over, sitting off to the side on the picnic table alone.

They only had enough sparklers for the younger kids.

 

_If you were spending all this time with Auston, when did he have time to hang with his other friends?_

We didn’t spend all of our time together I guess.

_No?_

On Canada Day he didn’t even text me.

_Ouch, no parties?_

I told you, I was never invited to any.

 _So you just spent all of_ your _time together, not his?_

I guess so.

_You didn’t want to hang out with his friends at all?_

No, I’d rather be alone.

 

The river had always been a meeting place for teenagers. It was like that before Mitch’s time and it was still that way. His parents told him stories still. Like the cops breaking up parties and chasing kids through the woods while he was away at school.

The university kids would still go down there too.

Not Mitch, that was never his stomping ground, but other people did for sure.

He’d hear them when he’d walk along the train tracks, stopping just close enough to know they were there but stay hidden himself. There wasn’t much for him there, so he wouldn’t stay too long. Just eavesdrop. And he turn on his heel to leave when he heard enough

He didn’t really care to know how the other side lived

 

_So you just broke up because of the fighting?_

No I mean I guess the fighting came from somewhere

_Yeah, from you two being scared._

I guess.

_What were you scared of?_

Each other? I was scared he was going to leave.

_And he did._

Yeah but I left first. I won.

_That’s a weird competition to have._

Yeah but he hurt me first I had to get even.

_How’d he hurt you?_

He cheated on me. Down by the river. I was walking along the train tracks and I heard him with some girl.

_Ah. That sucks._

I know.

 

Mitch would still like to say he did fun things over summer break, like go to disneyland. His family never got to do those things, but he’s not too torn up about _that_. It’s just something more interesting to talk about. Who wants to hear about what Mitch did this summer? He did nothing. Nothing worth talking about. Nothing worth aching over. Nothing.

This whole summer was a wash and he was going to forget it between one sleep and the next. The moment school started, the moment he made real friends and had real experiences, it would be like this summer never happened.

The bruises on his knees never happened, the soreness in his body never happened, rolling around in the bed of a truck never happened. There would be thousands of bug bites to forget, thousands of times his stomach did backflips, thousands dry lips and fast hands and awkward meetings of bodies.

He was going to forget this summer at all costs. Because nothing happened. There was no reason to remember it. He had done nothing with no one.

 

_Auston sounds like a jackass._

Yeah.

_So why are you getting his name tattooed on you?_

So I won’t forget.

_The guy who cheated on you?_

The summer I first fell in love.

  


**Author's Note:**

> There's a lot going on i don't address specifically and while I have the ideas in my head you may read it differently but that's the best part imo. Comments and kudos mean everything to me as you all probably know. I know i don't respond to comments because i get anxious about talking to people who say nice things to me l o l but i read them all and i keep them locked up in my heart forever. because i'm a cheesey motherfucker.
> 
> Anyway if you want to follow/talk to me my tumblr is @mitchmarnersnohomopillow. Please stop by and request stuff if you want. I'm trying to post most like short prompt-y stuff there.


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